Sam and Dean's Trunk and Treat
by Kat Lee formerly Pirate Turner
Summary: Sam has always wanted to go trick or treat. This year, he finally gets his wish.  7th in Will's 13 Days of Halloween series for Jack in year 2010.


Title: "Sam and Dean's Trunk and Treat"  
Author: Pirate Turner  
Especially Dedicated To: My beloved Jack  
For: My beloved Jack and our babies as a bit of a Halloween/Samhain/Anniversary present in this chaotic time of our lives  
Rating: R due to sexual content  
Summary: Sam has always wanted to go trick or treat. This year, he finally gets his wish.  
Warnings: Slash, (W)Incest, Mild Kink  
Word Count (excluding heading): 2,940  
Date Written: 17 October, 2010  
Disclaimer: Sam, Dean, and John Winchester, Zorro, Fonzie, and all other recognizable characters mentioned within are & TM their respective owners, not the author, and are used without permission. No one can own the Source of All Evil, but this particular representation of him is & TM his respective owners, also not the author, and is used without permission. Everything else is & TM the author. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.

Dean's fist slammed down on his horn again as he blared at yet another careless driver who'd slammed on their brakes too fast because of a costumed child scooting between vehicles. "COME ON ALREADY!" he bellowed. Then, more to Sam and himself, he fumed, "This is ridiculous!" He picked his voice up just a slightly higher notch as he said sarcastically, "We don't have all day to stop the Apocalypse, people!"

"Dean," Sam quietly spoke up, "not every Demon we face is bringing about the Apocalypse."

"No, but how the Hell do you tell one from the other?"

"I don't know," Sam mused, his brown eyes turning to look back out the windows at the frolicking children. There was silence in the Impala punctuated only by Dean's frustrated grunts for a moment before Sam asked, "Have you ever thought about what it would be like?"

Dean tore his eyes away from the crowd he was trying to get through to look at his beloved, little brother. "What what would be like?" he asked.

"If Dad had ever let us go trick or treating."

"Trick or treating's for kids."

"But we were kids, Dean, and we never got to go." Sam's big, puppylike eyes looked up at him. "You've never wondered what you would dress as or what you would get in your haul?"

"No." Dean gave his head a firm shake. "Look at them, Sammy. They're dressing up like monsters that they think are fake. We know they're real. We've always known they're real. You really wanna dress up like a monster that's going to kill somebody?"

Sam paused and turned his eyes back to the jubilant kids. "They don't all dress like monsters. They're Disney characters, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, astronauts, and cowboys . . . Princesses, Faeries . . . " he spoke, slowly picking out the differently costumed children in the area. "Heck, there's even a Bill Clinton."

"Like I said," Dean responded, only partially listening as he frustratedly tried to work his way through the crowd without jumping out of the car and beating the living crap out of some kid's mother or father, "monsters. It's a holiday to celebrate monsters, Sam."

Sam fell silent, and as Dean continued to drive, he continued to watch the children as they went around and collected their treats. It was much more than a holiday for monsters, he knew. The holiday had first been created as a means to hide from the monsters, but over the years, it had become more of a celebration of children, of life, and of a kind of magic of which Sam wished their lives could have more. None of the other hunters would ever understand that not all magic was bad, but Sam maintained an open mind because of other things he saw: the magic of a child's face lighting up at a treat, the magic of a trick that was far simpler than it appeared, and the magic of love beaming between the two people involved in a happy coupling.

There were thousands of couples celebrating the holiday tonight, too, Sam knew, dressing as a huge variety of people and monsters alike. They'd be dancing and partying in costumes. Some would even make love in costumes. He sighed. It was too bad that his brother couldn't see that magic, but then, Sam thought, his deep, brown eyes flicking back over to watch Dean, maybe it was because no one had ever taken the time to show that magic to Dean. He was cynical. He had always been cynical, but maybe, just maybe, Sam could enlighten that cynic a little bit. "Hmm," he mused aloud.

"What?" Dean queried, his eyes casting a dark look back over at his brother.

Sam shrugged innocently. "Nothing," he replied. Yet if Dean had been paying closer attention to his love rather than focusing on working his cherished Impala through a road that he should not have even turned onto, he would have seen the look on his face, and then he would have known that what Sammy was thinking was very far from nothing indeed!

* * *

Dean slid into a parking lot, turned off his baby's motor, and rubbed his hands together in glee. "There's nothing like a good Demon buttkicking to get the appetite going!" he exclaimed eagerly. "Sure you don't wanna eat in, Sammy?"

"Yeah," Sam replied distractedly, his eyes roaming the other stores on the lane.

Dean shrugged. "Suit yourself." He jumped out of the Impala. "I'll be back," he called before heading into Pizza Hut.

Sam's eyes suddenly lit up as they set upon the certain kind of shop for which he'd been searching. "So will I," he murmured, getting out quietly and jogging down the road.

* * *

Dean returned to an empty car several long minutes later. As usual, he'd stood around inside the restaurant and chatted up the waitresses while waiting for the food to be cooked. Though the only one he could ever love was his brother, Dean persisted in maintaining the image of a single guy ready to hop in the next available bed for he wanted no one, and especially not their father, to ever suspect that he loved his Sammy as far more than a brother.

Despite his love for Sam, he didn't worry about him when he came out, calling, "Hey, Sammy, I got those cheesesticks you love with extra sauce! Open the door for me, will ya, bro?", to find that Sam was gone. Instead Dean simply figured that Sam had gone to the john, helped himself into the car, and set to eating. "More for me." He sighed happily as he all but inhaled the delicious cheese, meat, and bread paradise.

His dinner was soon disturbed, however, by a tapping on the car. "HEY, KEEP OFF OF MY CAR!" Dean yelled, turning in his seat in the direction from which the sound had come. He saw a flash of black whirl around the trunk of the car and turned again in his seat as another set of tapping began. This time his brown eyes widened as he saw the sword the masked man carried!

Dean barely took the time to set the boxes of food into Sam's seat and almost upset the top pizza in his rush before jumping out of the car and whirling to face the masked . . . Zorro? Dean's eyes widened as anger flushed his face. The dude thought he was Zorro! "STOP THAT!" he demanded. "STAY THE HECK OUT OF MY CAR, BUDDY, BEFORE I DECK YOU ONE!"

Zorro's full, pale pink lips curved up into a wide smile, and then he dared to move the sword from tapping the Impala to tap Dean on the chest! Before Dean could swing at him, however, a voice that he knew as well as he knew his own whispered huskily, "Ya don't recognize me, . . . " There was a hesitant pause, and then the man concluded, " . . . stud?"

Anger flared through Dean at the same time as a strange arousal began to stir within his loins. That was it! he thought, his hands balling into ready fists. No man but his Sammy called him stud, and Sam would never dare to call him such a blatant nickname! The sword touched his chin, forcing his gaze up, and suddenly, as his eyes locked with "Zorro"'s, all of Dean's anger left him. His body stiffened, his own sword growing instantly harder than it had ever been before, and he gasped in surprise. "Sammy!" he cried. Cocking his head and looking even more closely at him, he exclaimed, "It _is_ you!"

"Si," Sam replied, grinning. His brown eyes twinkled with merriment and longing that only his brother had ever been able to fill. He gave his fake, black mustache a twirl with his free hand before he tapped Dean gently again, the point of his sword falling right over Dean's heart. "Now get back in the car, mi amor."

"Here?" Dean questioned in growing surprise as he looked around at all the other customers who were beginning to stop, look at them, point, and talk. "But we can't just - !"

"Get in the car," Sam repeated in his feigned Spanish accent. Then, dropping his voice to a hushed whisper that only Dean could hear, Sam added coaxingly, "It's okay, Dean. They don't know us, and they don't know I'm your brother."

Between his mask, wig, mustache, and the rest of his costume, Dean realized, the people gawking at them really wouldn't be able to tell that Sam was his brother, and being gay, though it had been once and was still considered a taboo, was no longer a crime. He could love who he wanted legally, as long as it wasn't his brother, and as long as they didn't know that and, thereby, couldn't put Sammy in jail, who the Hell cared what anybody else thought? They would see only two men, not two brothers, and so they were safe from the law and their father on that account. "Whatever you say, Zorro," Dean finally replied with a twist of his hips that both shocked and left Sam breathless. He climbed back into the Impala and laid the seat back, not caring what the world thought as long as his Sam was safe or, at least, as safe as their lives would ever allow them.

A crazy idea entered Sam's mind, and he laughed, threw his shoulders back, and the last remainants of his care to the wind. He strove his sword up into the air in a salute as he cried out, "El Zorro amors El Deano!"

Dean heard him from inside the car and burst out laughing, but that laughter soon died as Sam entered the car, shut the door on the outside world, shed himself of his hat, sword, and gloves, and turned to Dean. "You've had your trick, mi amor," he announced, speaking in the same Spanish-tinged tone. "Now it's time for your treat."

Dean shivered just at the way that Sammy looked at him, with such love and adoration filling his rich, dark eyes, and then he almost jumped out of his hide when Sam reached out and boldly squeezed the rising bulge in his already-tight jeans. With the steering wheel pressed into his caped back, Sam went down on top of Dean and replaced his swiftly stroking hand with his mouth. He lipped him through the fabric of his jeans that were already so tight that they threatened to break with his reaction to Sam's mouth. Dean threw his head back and moaned in delighted ecstasy as Sam trailed his tongue over his erection and, using only his teeth in a method that Sam had never dared to try before although Dean had used it many times on him, unzipped him.

Dean reached down and fumbled with the top button as Sam slid his tongue between the folds of his jeans and touched the top of his cock. Dean cried out with pleasure even as he continued to fight with the button. Though he'd been loved and been fucked (only his beloved Sammy truly did the loving) many times before, Dean found himself feeling as though this was his very first time and he was as much of an inept virgin as Sam had been when Dean had taken his brother, who'd been pleading and crying out for his real love, their very first night together as far more than mere brothers.

Sam thrust his hands between Dean's knees and gently splayed his legs apart. His hands stayed on the calves of his legs for a moment, his palms massaging and dull fingernails gently kneading the fabric of his jeans, while his tongue continued to flicker along Dean's staff. He could feel him tighten inside and heard a slight ripping sound just as Dean managed to unfasten the button. His sword sprang to life before Sam's eyes, almost striking him in the face, but Sammy quickly wrapped his mouth around him and sucked hard. Dean's cry blasted out of the Impala, sending the gathered crowd scurrying at last.

Sam's teeth slightly grazed Dean's rockhard staff. His hands moved from massaging his calves to pushing his jeans down over his tanned, muscular legs. He then cupped his balls and squeezed them once gently before beginning to massage them. His tongue circled the ring of his sword before he slowly pulled his mouth off of him. Excitement and ecstasy were now raking Dean's body so hard that between his and Sam's movements, the car itself was shaking!

"Don't stop now, Sammy!" Dean groaned and buried his hands into Sam's thick, brown curls.

"El Zorro has no intentions of stopping," Sam replied in his Spanish accent that he noted made Dean grow even harder. Another cry erupted from his love, and Sam once more touched his mouth to his member. He started at Dean's base and licked his way all the way up before once more circling his cresting, shimmering top with Dean's cries and yells of delight playing like music on his ears.

He hesitated at the top, suckled him once, and then moved to his testicles. Sweeping his hands over Dean's private areas, Sam brought his hands to his mighty sword, cupped him there, and began to run his hands up and down his massive, squirming length, squeezing him here and there. As his hands worked briskly upon his sword, he took his time with his mouth on his testicles, slowly licking each one in turn all over before drawing the entire hairy sac into his mouth and sucking hard.

Dean's hands moved from Sammy's hair to running up and down the length of his back that he could reach him. He scratched him and almost tore his shirt from his body each time that Sam sucked him. Without warning, Sam swiftly moved his mouth back to his sword and returned his hands to rubbing his balls.

He caught his shaking sword between his teeth and knew, from the way it pulsed in his mouth, that it wouldn't be much longer now. "Sammy!" Dean cried his name over and over again as Sam continued to work his magic on him. "Sammy!" He ran his tongue once more all around Dean's saluting pole and then took him back into his mouth, taking as much of him inside of him, as he could, as Dean screamed his name so loudly that it echoed out into the night, "SAMMY!"

Sam took every bit of Dean's cream, and when his fountain was at last done spouting and his sword lay limp within his mouth, Sam let him go, stroked him one more time, crawled up over the top of him, and kissed him passionately upon the lips. Gazing into his eyes, he breathed, his Zorro accent gone with the last bits of their shared treat, "I love you, Dean! Happy Halloween!"

Dean was still breathing hard, and his brown eyes were still filled with the stars that only Sammy had ever been able to place within his orbs. "I love you too, Sammy!" His chest rose and fell, and Sam curled up next to him and wrapped him in the warm, safe, and loving confines of his strong arms. After a long time of just laying together, cuddling in the quiet night, Dean whispered again, his shushed voice punctuated by his breathing, "Wow! That was . . . magnificent! . . . Thank you, Sam!"

Sammy hugged him. "My pleasure," he returned with a sly smile and a quirked brow.

"Not yet," Dean countered as he reached over and stroked Sam between his legs.

Sam leaned down slightly and caught his hand. "Oh, no, you don't, lover," he teased with a knowing grin. "Not tonight. Not without a costume."

Dean's mouth fell open. He stared at Sam, and it took a moment for him to realize the sincerity of Sammy's pledge. "You're serious?" he asked in shock to which Sam nodded.

Sam squeezed his hand, brought it up to his mouth, and kissed it. "Yup." Still gazing into his eyes, he began to seductively lick each of Dean's knuckles in turn.

"Fuck!" Dean cried out. He almost kicked open his door in his rush to escape the Impala and get to where he could buy what he needed. Sam had to laugh as he watched his brother whipping his head about like a rabbit checking for enemies before running out of his hole and then running down the street in the direction of the costume shop while still pulling up and zipping his pants.

Sam laid back to wait for Dean, who, in the mean time, was wishing fervently that he would not be too late to attain a costume with at least a small bit of cool factor, like a Fonzie or perhaps Batman, with a huge smile on his face and found himself humming the theme song to Zorro. He had finally gone trick or treating, and it had truly been one of the most magical and wonderful moments of his entire life. He laughed again at the memory of Dean's parting cry. {Fuck indeed, Dean!}, he thought.

Ah, what a night! Sam picked up his metal sword and began to play with it, carefully making salutes in the car without harming the Impala for he knew that Dean would never forgive him if he ever harmed his baby though Dean had almost done so twice in this one unforgettable, magical night. Sam's smile was already filling his handsome face as he thought, {What a Halloween!}

**The End**


End file.
